Our Friends and Neighbors
by Fiona Robinson
Summary: The Alphans find a new home, but soon discover the planet isn't as deserted as they originally thought.
1. Default Chapter

Our Friends and Neighbors

Disclaimer: _Space: 1999 is the property of ITC, or Carlton. Or somebody who isn't me. This story was written for entertainment purposes only. I own none of their characters or situations. This is, like always, only for fun._

* * *

_Moonbase Alpha Status Report, Dr. Helena Russell recording. This will be the last status report I file from the moonbase. Construction of basic housing and a few rudimentary buildings has been completed in our new settlement, and I, along with half of the residents of the base, are set to leave for our new home early this afternoon. Commander Koenig and a staff will remain here for a few more weeks, closing down and dismantling the base. We will need every resource available to us to ensure our survival on this new planet._

_In the past months, it has become clear that Alpha can no longer protect or sustain us. Had we not gone into orbit around this planet's sun, we would likely only have lasted another six months at the most. All of us know how lucky we are to have not only found a home, but to be able to establish our community in stages._

_Our initial surveys showed evidence that there has been civilization here at one point. As yet, we've seen no evidence of other intelligent life. There are large herd animals, fish, and flocks of birds. We are taking the chance that if there is another civilization here, it will be a friendly one._

_I will continue to keep a journal of our progress from our new home. After all, it is a continuation of our journey, and one well worth recording. We will miss Alpha, but not the hardship or danger of living in space. We know our new life will not be without its challenges, but all of us – the 280 of us who have survived this journey – are now optimistic about our ability to thrive in our new home._

_

* * *

_

John Koenig squinted into the late afternoon sun, a warm breeze ruffling his hair. He was looking for his Chief Medical Officer, Helena Russell, but a quick survey of the camp told him she wasn't there. Curious, he turned toward a small building at the edge of camp – Alpha's new infirmary – and her colleague, Bob Mathias.

He found the senior physician stretched out under a desk, running cable from a piece of diagnostic equipment to a computer terminal on the work surface above him. The hum of a generator, just outside the building, told John that Life Support had some of the electricity up and running.

"Have you seen Helena?" he asked Bob's legs, and the other man scooted out from under the desk to regard his commander with surprise.

"She said she was going for a walk. She's been at it for two days straight, so I told her to take a break."

John grinned. "Was she getting prickly?"

"She was more than a little irritable, yes." Bob chuckled. "I can't say I blame her, though. It's going to take a while to get this place operational."

John sighed. "I know. Baby steps, I guess. As long as we can stay warm and dry we'll be okay." He shifted on his feet, trying to keep his own exhaustion at bay. "Did you see which way she went?"

"Toward the lake, I think."

"Thanks," John said, starting for the door. "You should take a break yourself, you know. Rome wasn't built in a day."

"I will. As soon as I can get this terminal up and running." Bob got to his feet, pocketing his screwdriver, and booted up the computer. "I think we should have left Microsoft behind at Breakaway," he muttered, and John laughed, waving as he stepped through the door.

* * *

John found Helena sitting on the rocky shore of the lake, her face tilted up to the sun. He stood and watched her for a moment, drinking in the features he knew he wouldn't see for weeks once he went back up to Alpha. He was often amazed by how little she had really aged during their years in space. He did not think the same was true for him.

"Hey," he said, and she turned to look at him, slightly surprised. "Want some company?"

Her face relaxed in a smile, and she nodded, patting the ground beside her. "How did you find me?"

"Bob," he said, sitting down. "He said you needed a break."

She laughed, softly. "Tattle-tail."

John slid an arm around her shoulders, drawing her against him. "He was right."

Helena sighed, leaning against him. "Yeah. We all need a break." She squinted a little, watching the waves lap against the shore.

"Are you okay?" he asked, reaching to smooth her hair back from her face. It was longer now, brushing against her shoulders as she turned her head. He wondered suddenly if he'd ever told her he liked it that way. Helena smiled at him, weary, and nodded. "Are you sure?"

"I'm sure. It's just overwhelming sometimes." She paused, and John knew she was stopping herself from telling him what was really on her mind. He squeezed her shoulders, gently, as if prompting her, and she smiled again. "And I wish you were staying here with me."

John sighed, nodding. "So do I."

"I'm not saying that to make you feel guilty."

He kissed her forehead. "I know you aren't. I feel the same way."

She looked away suddenly, concentrating on the frayed edge of the sleeve of her uniform, her shoulders hunching, before she cleared her throat and looked back at him. "I'm being selfish. Sorry."

"At least I know you'll miss me." He drew his knees up, resting his forearms on them. "What do you think of the view from your new clinic?"

"I love it," she said, her posture relaxing suddenly. "It's incredible. All the views are incredible. The sunrises make it all worth it."

"Yeah, they do, don't they?" He shifted a little, his arm snaking around her shoulders, and Helena leaned against him. "Maybe this time next year we'll be watching them from our own house."

"Maybe. That would be nice." She closed her eyes for a moment. "A year from now seems so far away."

John nodded, kissing the top of her head. "Tell me about it."

* * *

Three days after John left, the wind turned cold. The Alphans watched as the green grasses dried up and turned brown. Strange birds flew overhead; a group went out hunting one morning and brought back fowl as large as turkeys. Helena found two men scalding and plucking the birds, and that night they had what tasted like roast turkey. The cooks had saved everything, and made turkey soup that lasted for days. No one complained about leftovers.

The clinic was up and running, as basic as it was. Helena, Ed Spencer, and the nurse who had accompanied them, Amanda Godwin, spent much of their time testing equipment and finding new ways to make their resources go the farthest. They had long ago run out of bandages, and they were all anxious to find a way to grow cotton to replenish the supply. That, Helena knew, would have to wait until spring. For now, as it had been on Alpha, everything was fair game when it was needed. She sometimes felt as if she ran a laundry service, specializing in the cleaning and sterilization of strips of fabric.

Satellite transmissions were what Sandra Benes termed "flaky" at the best of times, so Helena and John corresponded over e-mail that occasionally reached its destination on the same day it was sent.

_The tear-down is taking longer than we'd thought, _John wrote her one night. _I hadn't counted on the loads our Eagles can carry – Alan is working on refinements to some of the cargo holds. We are stripping everything we can – insulation, wallboard, switches. Demolition is a lot more difficult when you have to be careful. At least there's good news from your end – Tony tells me the storage buildings are pretty much finished._

All Helena could think to write, huddled in her tiny quarters as a cold wind howled around the eaves, was: _Come back soon_.

Two days later, a blizzard swept through the tiny settlement, and satellite transmissions were blocked completely. The group couldn't even get their comlocks to work between buildings. It was like the pioneer stories she'd read as a child – the snow was blowing so hard Helena could barely see her hand in front of her face.

The wind blew her into the canteen that night, when she followed a rope from the Medical Center to the building next door in search of food. She found Tony Verdeschi sitting alone at a table, eating a plate of stew and drinking something she strongly suspected wasn't water or coffee. His eyes were red-rimmed, his skin chapped from long days outdoors.

"Hi, Tony," she said, stopping beside him.

He looked up at her, smiling tiredly. "Helena. What made you leave the cosy confines of your quarters?"

Helena nodded in the direction of the fireplace. "The thought of a roaring fire," she said. "I was feeling nostalgic for my old home."

Tony nodded, taking a long pull from his drink. "Well, have a seat."

Helena sat, feeling mildly uneasy. She rarely found that she had anything in common with Tony. She knew John liked him, but she'd always felt Tony quick to judge, that his hot temper had landed them in trouble on more than one occasion.

As she pushed her stew around on her plate, Helena decided she needed to be more charitable with Tony. He did, after all, treat Maya well. So when he offered her a "nip" from the flask he kept in his pocket, she suppressed the rebuke that hovered on her lips and instead pushed her coffee cup toward him. It was a cold night, after all, and none of them were working. And it would take the edge of the disgusting substitute for coffee that she'd never been able to get used to.

She could not suppress the expression that invaded her features as the drink burned its way down her throat. She swallowed hard, her eyes watering, and tried to smile at him. "What is that? Eagle fuel?"

Tony laughed. "Close." He sniffed his glass. "It's not really about the flavor, Helena. It's about the warmth in your toes."

"Is that what you all drink at those poker games?" John had rolled in late once or twice in the last year, jovial and smelling of alcohol. He rarely indulged in excess, insisting that his head had to remain clear in case of an emergency, but every once in a while the stress would get to him and Helena would insist he take some time for himself. Inevitably, he would spend the evening with Alan and Tony, and the rest, as they say, would be history.

"How did you know?" Now Tony grinned at her. "It's not so bad once you get used to it."

Helena took another sip, letting it burn a path down her throat. She wondered how much you'd have to drink to get used to it, and then she surreptitiously found herself studying Tony. He had always liked to drink, it wasn't until now that she'd ever questioned how much or how often.

"Maya tells me you want to start a vineyard in the spring," she said after a moment, making a conscious decision to ignore whatever signs she thought she saw.

Tony nodded. "If there's time. It'll be hard work, but we're used to that. And we're planting crops anyway. It's not like we won't have the land." He sighed. "It's just so bloody much work right now, getting this place up and running."

"I know."

"Did Maya also tell you she's going back up to Alpha tomorrow?"

Helena's brows shot up in surprise. "No. She didn't."

Tony nodded. "They need her help dismantling Computer, apparently. It's more finicky than they thought." He paused. "I'm surprised John didn't mention it."

"He didn't. He only said demolition was taking a long time. I haven't received anything from him today. Sahn said the satellite feeds were down."

Tony was silent, filling his glass again.

"Tony, I'm sure John wouldn't ask her to go back up there if he didn't need her."

"No." He sighed. "You're right. I guess I'm just tired of bloody Alpha coming before everything else."

Helena nodded, suddenly understanding. Her heart sank as she watched him, and she turned her attention to the fire. She knew better than anyone what it meant for Alpha to come first – Alpha had come before everything for her and John – it had determined when they started their relationship, how much time they'd spent together, and when they would marry. It had been the source of their most passionate and violent arguments. It had been the very thing that had brought them together, and it was the thing that kept them apart.

"I hope," she said, after a moment, "that when we're all settled here, there will be less of that."

There was no mistaking the bitterness in Tony's voice. "That day's a long way off, if you ask me."

* * *

Helena was stamping the snow from her shoes the next morning, blinking away the stars that peppered her vision as her eyes recovered from the blinding whiteness of the snow outside, when the door flew open behind her. Two of the construction crew nearly knocked her over as they came through the door – the shorter of the two, Adam Melville, caught her arm to keep her from falling.

"Dr. Russell. We weren't sure if you were here yet," Melville gasped. "We need you to come with us."

"What's the matter? Is someone hurt?"

Melville nodded. "We found something. In the snow near the lake."

"Some_one_," the other man, Harry Stuart, corrected. "We found someone."

"Let me grab my medical kit," she said, turning for her office. She stopped on her way back to reception to pick up a couple of thermal blankets, then pulled on her gloves and nodded at the two men. "Let's go. We'll need the buggy and a stretcher if we're going to bring them back."

Stuart paused, a hand on the doorknob. "I don't know if you're going to want to do that," he said.

"For God's sake, of course I am. I'm not going to leave them in the snow." Helena stared at him, incredulous.

"I think you should take a look, first," said Melville, stepping through the door. Confused, Helena followed, climbing onto the back of the buggy.

The figure was lying on the shore of the lake, a black heap on the snowy shale of the beach. Helena felt her stomach lurch as she jumped off the buggy, knowing immediately that this person was not one of them. She felt Stuart catch her arm, slowing her pace, but she shrugged free and moved toward the inert figure.

She reached out a cautious hand to touch the body, surprised at the cold she felt under her fingers. Her hand closed around what she thought was an arm, and she turned the body slowly toward her, shifting it onto its back. The flesh was stiff and unyielding, but the body rolled, and Helena held her breath as she brushed the snow away from its head, pushing a black hood aside to reveal pale, smooth skin.

"Is it alive?" Stuart asked.

"I'm not sure," Helena muttered, reaching for her kit. "Can you get the stretcher, please?" Out of the corner of her eye she saw Stuart move, but Melville stood fast, and when she turned to him she saw his features twisted in distaste.

"You aren't going to bring it back, are you?" he asked.

"Yes," she said. "I am. I might be able to save its life." She reached for her scanner and fumbled for the tests she wanted – her numb fingers were refusing to co-operate in the cold. After a moment she sat back on her heels; there was a heartbeat, slow and barely detectable. She looked up at the men. "Come on," she said. "We have to get back to Medical."


	2. Chapter Two

"Where did it come from?" Ed Spencer asked, peering at Medical's newest, strangest patient. The unconscious patient was over six feet tall, slender, and humanoid. His face was fine-featured and pale-skinned – his eyelashes and faint eyebrows were the only hair on his entire body.

Helena shrugged. "Lost in the snow, I suppose." She crossed her arms over her chest, watching her patient carefully. "I wonder why we didn't detect life forms before?"

"Our scans showed all kinds of life forms," Maya said, from her spot near the doorway. "Herd animals, fish. Birds. We just couldn't tell what was what from our position."

"But we've been down here for months," Ed argued. "Haven't we gathered more data since then?"

Maya's gaze was steady. "Of course. But nothing that told us these people existed. They could live below ground. There could be five of them, or five hundred." She paused, turning her eyes to Helena. "I contacted John," she said. "I told him I'd stay until tomorrow or the next day."

Helena nodded. "Thanks." Her call to John that morning had been interrupted by distance and shifting weather patterns – she had terminated the transmission unsure if he'd understood what she had told him.

"What if they aren't friendly?" Ed said, suddenly, and the two women turned to him.

"Then we deal with that when he wakes up," Helena said. "Tony's aware of the situation. We have security in place."

Ed nodded, reluctantly.

"This is no different than all the races we encountered on Alpha," Helena pointed out. She stopped speaking as her patient stirred, and the monitors registered a change in its heart rate. She realized, after a moment, that she was holding her breath, and her eyes met Maya's over the head of the bed.

"Is that good?" Maya asked.

"I don't know. I would love to say yes, but I have no idea." She felt a twinge of fear, remembering the violent Balor running amok on Alpha, but pushed that thought away. "I guess we'll have to wait and see."

Maya's brow furrowed. "He looks like he wants to wake up."

The patient stirred again, and Helena reached out to touch him, surprised at the warmth of his skin. As she did, he turned to face her, opening round blue eyes that quickly widened with fear. Helena was so surprised she took a step backwards, drawing her hand away.

"I'm sorry," she said, without thinking. "I don't want to hurt you." As soon as she spoke, she realized how silly it sounded – she had no idea if he could speak, let alone if he could speak English. But after a moment she felt a strange lightheadedness, images and sensations flooded her mind – cold, darkness, snow, the lake, a paralyzing weariness, warmth. Pain in her fingers and toes. Overwhelming thirst. A wave of agony. Helena's eyes widened, she felt Ed rush to her side as she swayed on her feet, and she gasped for air as the patient on the bed in front of her drew its own last breath.

When the rush of sensation subsided, she found herself sitting on a chair at the side of the bed, the relentless sound of the heart monitor piercing the room. Ed was bent over the patient, trying to revive him, cursing as his attempts failed.

Helena got to her feet and reached out to her colleague. "It's all right," she said. "He's gone."

Ed looked up at her. "Are _you_ all right? You almost passed out."

"I'm fine. It was the strangest thing – I could feel everything he did," she said, looking down at the body. "He was out in the storm yesterday. I'm surprised he survived this long."

Ed nodded, unhooking the monitors from the body. "Are you going to do an autopsy?"

Helena was silent, thinking. "I don't know," she said, slowly. She frowned, surprised at her own answer, that her natural curiosity about the figure in front of her could not overcome the final sensation she'd been left with – despair.

She looked up to find Ed watching her again. Helena blinked, cast a glance at Maya, and cleared her throat.

"Let's hold off," Helena said. "His people might be looking for him." She drew a sheet over the patient's face, suddenly filled with an overwhelming tenderness that she couldn't explain. "I'll let John know," she said, softly. "Ed, can you take him to the morgue?"

* * *

The wind started up again as darkness blanketed the little settlement. In the canteen, Helena found Harry Stuart and Adam Melville holding court, telling the other Alphans about their discovery that morning. She saw Maya, watching from the periphery, her eyes hard and her jaw set.

"Those two are trouble," Maya said, when Helena came to stand beside her. "They keep talking about the 'alien danger'."

Helena nodded, sighing. "I don't think Harry's as much of a problem as Adam. Adam seems so…aggressive."

Maya nodded. "Tony says that's what made him such a great security officer all these years, but I'm not sure those are qualities that make good neighbors."

"I'm sure they _aren't_," Helena agreed, crossing her arms over her chest and turning her attention back to the men.

"Did you talk to John?" Maya asked, after a moment, and Helena nodded.

"Briefly. He's planning to come down tomorrow," she said.

Maya nodded. "I thought he might."

"That's good." Tony's voice beside Helena made her turn. "Perhaps his presence will help rein these two in. They're talking about an expedition to find the rest of them."

Helena pursed her lips, an uneasy knot forming in her stomach. "Haven't they learned anything from all we've seen?" she murmured.

Tony let out a long breath, scratching his chin. "Melville's not particularly bright. He's the exception to the Alphan psych profile, I think."

"And Harry?"

Tony shrugged. "I can't figure him out."

Helena nodded, slipping her hands into her pockets. She recalled, with sudden clarity, the look Melville had given her when she'd left the diagnostic unit that afternoon to contact John – his eyes had glittered with animosity. She shuddered a little, reaching for her coat.

"I'm going back to my quarters," she muttered. "I think I've heard enough for tonight."

Maya nodded. "That makes two of us. Tony?"

Tony shrugged, reaching for Maya's drink. "I'm going to stick around and keep an eye on them," he said, his voice low. "I'll see you later."

* * *

Helena sat bolt upright in bed, her heart beating wildly in her chest. Her quarters were chilly – she could tell the temperature had dropped considerably since she'd returned from the canteen. She sat for a moment, trying to regain her breath and remember what had jolted her awake.

Something Adam Melville had said at the canteen that night - something about organizing a group to search out the rest of the people on the planet. Helena rested her forehead on her knees, suddenly understanding the feeling of despair that had consumed the alien before he had died. He had been afraid of this very thing.

Helena slipped out of bed and reached for her clothes, feeling a frightening sense of renewed purpose. She had to stop Melville from finding them. It wasn't clear to her how – she simply knew she had to do something.

She drew her coat around her and stepped into the frosty night, heading for the Medical Center, her head down, her steps brisk. It was just past two o'clock in the morning, and the place would be deserted. She and Ed were on call most of the time, and the settlement was so small they could easily reach Medical in an emergency.

Helena's stomach lurched as she reached Medical. There was a light on in one of the offices – hers. She wondered for a moment if Ed was working late, then immediately dismissed that. What would he be doing in her office? She pushed the front door open and stepped inside, calling out to him as she walked through the reception area toward her office.

What she saw as came through the doorway made her stop dead in her tracks.

Medical's only patient, who had for all intents and purposes been dead the last time she'd seen him, was standing in the middle of the room, fully dressed and very much alive.

Helena felt her eyes widen as he turned to look at her, and she reached out a hand, as she had earlier that day, to show she meant no harm.

"I'm sorry," she said, her voice low, "I didn't mean to startle you."

He took a step toward her, then seemed to think better of moving any closer and stood, staring. He was taller than she'd imagined – over six feet, close to John's height – and extremely thin. His black clothing gave his shoulders a broadness that she knew was artificial; the bulk of his coat hid the fine bones of his limbs.

Helena swallowed. "Do you have a name?" This time there was nothing – no rush of sensation or imagery, no communication at all. "No. Well. I'm Helena." She tapped her chest and said it again, and he nodded, seeming to understand. "We need to find your people," she muttered, frustrated, and turned to close the door to her office.

He watched her pace for a few moments before moving toward her again, and this time when he touched her arm she felt the same lightheadedness she had that afternoon. This time, without his fear and confusion to clutter her thoughts, she understood. He was still weak. Home was a long way off. His people had probably given him up for dead. He was afraid of the Alphans.

Helena opened her eyes after a moment to look at him. She started to speak, then realized, with a twinge of foolishness, that she didn't have to. He understood everything. That she wanted to help, that she had only ever wanted to help, and that she wasn't the only one. _We don't want to hurt you_, she told him, and he shot back an image of Adam Melville, his hand tightening around her arm.

"I know," she said, without thinking. "I'm sorry. We won't let him hurt you or your family. We'll stop him. I promise."

No sooner had she spoken than his eyes widened, and she heard someone let out a low, throaty laugh before everything went black.


	3. Chapter Three

When she woke, she knew instantly that she was no longer in Medical. She was on the move, and she was cold. Helena's head was pounding; she cracked open one eye to steal a look at her surroundings. A particularly violent bump jostled her body, and her leg brushed against the person beside her. In a flash she understood where she was, who was driving, and how long it had been since she'd lost consciousness.

She was in what she thought of as a "general purpose" vehicle, and they were heading east. The Engineering crew had modified a few of the moon buggies when construction on the planet's surface had started, manufacturing new bodies that resembled low-slung jeeps, with a shallow back seat, side windows and a soft top. Helena couldn't remember what they ran on – she had a feeling it was some sort of power cell. The idea at the time had been that there would be one Eagle at the settlement – the rest would be sending shipments back and forth – and the Alphans on the ground needed transportation to hunt and fish, or to respond to any Medical emergencies. Helena thought, wryly, that Engineering had never imagined their vehicle would be used for this.

She closed her eyes, gathering herself and trying to decide if she wanted to make it clear she was awake. The stun from Melville's gun had rattled her bones. Helena had never felt the impact of a stun before; she had always suspected it would hurt, but never like this.

As the vehicle moved over another bump, Helena realized she could no longer pretend to be asleep or unconscious. She opened her eyes and shifted in her seat, trying to sit up properly. Adam Melville turned to look at her from the front seat.

"She's awake, Harry."

Harry Stuart did not look up from his driving duties. He simply nodded his acknowledgement.

"So," Melville continued, turning in his seat. "Do you know where we are?"

Helena frowned. Dawn was creeping over the horizon, but she didn't recognize a single landmark. "No," she admitted. "Should I?"

"I don't know. I thought your alien friend here might have said something."

Helena blinked, surprised. "Did he tell you to go this way?"

"He didn't tell us not to. And we impressed upon him it was in his best interests to tell us where to find his people." Melville grinned, suddenly. "Actually, I believe we told him it was in _your_ best interests, but he seemed to think that was the same thing."

Helena let out a long breath, refusing to let fear or confusion gain the upper hand. "This is pretty reckless, don't you think? Out in the middle of uncharted territory, without food or water? It must be thirty below."

Melville shrugged. "We're surrounded by water, if we need it. And we have a few rations. Enough to get us where we need to go, anyway."

"And where's that?"

"We're hoping you'll tell us."

"I don't know anything, Adam. And even if I did, I don't think I'd tell you."

"Look." Melville turned all the way around in his seat, leveling her with cold, glittering eyes. "We can leave you out here, if you'd rather. It's pretty cold, and I doubt you'd last long, but I can have Harry stop the buggy and let you off." He cast a glance at the man beside Helena. "He'll tell us what we need to know. Eventually."

Helena fell silent, unsure of what to say next. She shifted in her seat again, wincing a little at the pain in her back, and turned her gaze outside. She wondered if anyone had noticed they were gone, and how long it would take for them to figure out where to look.

* * *

The sun was at its peak when John's Eagle landed in the tiny settlement. He sprang out of the seat, tense and silent with worry, leaving Alan to finish the landing procedures as he pulled on his winter coat and gloves. Preliminary readings had told them temperatures were dipping toward twenty below zero on the Celsius scale, and the meteorologists expected another cold night.

He had not been able to process what Tony had told him that morning – that Helena was missing, along with two of his men and the body they'd discovered the day before. Ed Spencer had arrived at Medical early that morning to find the front door standing open and the lights on in Helena's office. There had been evidence of a struggle. Thanks to the wind that had blown across the frozen lake during the night, there were no tracks to follow.

Koenig felt his muscles tense as the hatch to the Eagle opened and frigid air washed over him. Alan came to stand beside him, pulling on his own gloves. "Not much of a day for a road trip, is it?"

John shook his head, stepping out of the Eagle and heading toward the main building, where Tony and Maya were waiting. The two were huddled with Sandra Benes at her communications desk, talking to a pilot flying search patterns with his Eagle. A quick glance told him Tony had just come in from the cold himself – his cheeks were pink and windburned, static from his hat had made his hair stand up on end.

"Anything?" John asked, setting his bag on a nearby table.

"John," Tony greeted, turning to face him. "Nothing yet. We've had the Eagle flying west, but we haven't had any luck."

"It's been hours, Tony. They could freeze to death out there."

"I know." Tony stuffed his hands into his pockets. "We estimate they've been gone over twelve hours. Someone saw Helena heading for Medical just after two o'clock this morning."

John nodded, gritting his teeth. "What I don't get is why they'd take her with them. Or why they'd take the body."

"Maya has a theory about that," Tony said, turning to the woman beside him.

"I think he revived," she said, crossing her arms over her chest.

"How can he have revived? Didn't you say you saw him die?" Alan asked.

Maya nodded. "We did. Or we thought we did. But he survived in the cold for well over twelve hours – Helena said he was out there before the storm started."

Alan frowned. "How did she know that?"

Maya shifted on her feet. "He could communicate with her. She said it was almost like telepathy."

John drew his dark brows together, puzzled. "I thought he was only conscious for a minute or two before he died. He told her all that?"

"It only took seconds, John. You should have seen it – she nearly fainted when it happened. And then afterward, in her office, she told me she'd seen everything he had while he was out in the snow. Including his rescue."

"Are you sure this…person…is friendly?" Alan asked after a moment.

Maya nodded. "Helena seemed to think so."

John forced out a long breath, taking it all in. "What about Melville and Stuart?" he asked, feeling queasy at the thought of the two. He had never liked Adam Melville, but was essentially stuck with him thanks to the greater forces in the universe.

Tony shrugged. "They're on a witch hunt," he said. "They're determined to find those people. He said it last night, he doesn't want to share his new home with aliens."

John shook his head, his mouth twisted in disgust. "Idiot. Doesn't he realize _we're_ the aliens now? He's going to get us all killed."

* * *

Helena was chilled through by the time Harry Stuart turned to his partner and suggested they find a place to stop for the night. "It's freezing, Adam. We need to stop and build a fire before we all get frostbite."

Grudgingly, Melville nodded and signaled for Harry to drive toward an outcropping of rock. The terrain had grown rougher the farther they'd driven into the foothills, though Helena knew they weren't going straight east.

She had not spoken since Melville had suggested they could leave her behind, but her traveling companion filled her mind with an almost constant chatter. Melville was headed in the right direction, in a sense, but she was sure he would never find the other settlement without help. She had also decided that no matter what, she would not help him.

Somewhere along the journey, Helena had started to think of the stranger as Joe. She couldn't explain why, only that she needed to give him a name, and the impression she got was that his was unpronounceable. She had gone to high school with a Joe – he was tall and had worn black exclusively, and she had thought him dangerous at first until she'd gotten to know him. So Joe it was.

She sat beside him near the fire, trying to warm her stiff, chilled limbs, slipping her boots from her feet to rub the blood back into her toes. She was worried about hypothermia – not just for herself, but for all of them. Melville and Stuart had not had the foresight to pack more than rudimentary supplies, and she knew that a thermal blanket was not going to keep them warm enough in frigid weather. Still, she said nothing. There was nothing she could do.

The four sat silently for a long time, eating crumbly ration bars and drinking cups of hot water, trying to warm their insides. Helena wished she had some of whatever Tony had given her from his flask two nights before.

"Damn it," Harry Stuart mumbled, when they'd been sitting for an hour. "This is nuts, Adam. My feet are numb."

"It won't be so nuts when they kill us all," Melville said, nodding in Joe's direction. He looked at Helena. "Is there anything you can do for him?"

"Not in this cold," she said. "They're probably frozen. You could lose your toes, Harry."

Harry gulped, but Melville snorted derisively. "Nice try, Doctor."

"I'm serious," Helena said, an edge in her voice. "Can you feel yours?"

"Mine are fine," Melville said, his eyes on the fire. "You need to toughen up, Harry."

Helena raised an eyebrow, but said nothing. She caught Harry Stuart watching her across the fire – his expression gave her the first hope she'd had all day.

She saw Joe move beside her, trying to get comfortable in the snow, and she took a chance and turned to look at him. His expression had not changed once since she'd come across him in her office the night before, but he had told her a thousand things. She marveled at it – at how their communication no longer required physical contact. She wondered if he was cold, and he told her no, that he was a little uncomfortable but basically fine.

"Is he talking to you?" Melville asked, his voice cutting through the darkness. Helena jumped, wondering what had given her away.

"No, of course not. How could he talk to me?" she asked, meeting Melville's eyes across the fire.

"I heard you telling Maya, earlier."

"You heard wrong," Helena said, her voice cool.

Melville pressed his mouth into a thin line. "You're lying," he said. He shifted forward, closer to the fire, and Helena felt her heart beat faster. She sat completely still, trying to moderate her breathing, her fingers clenched around the mug of water in her hands. "One of you will tell me eventually," he said, after a moment.

Helena was silent, refusing to look away. She sipped from her cup, slowly, then tossed the rest into the fire. "I'm going to get one of those blankets," she said. "And then I'm gong to get some sleep. I'm not telling you anything."


	4. Chapter Four

Maya stood looking out the window at the night sky, her jacket pulled tightly around her. She had been back from their search for an hour, but she couldn't seem to get warm. The chill came from deep inside, born of worry for Helena and fear for them all.

She had wondered over and over that day what had kept Adam Melville from doing to her what he wanted to do to their new neighbors. Perhaps the thought of being tossed out an airlock had been enough to curb his aggression. Perhaps years of drifting through space had made him insane. She could clearly recall the first time she'd met him – his self-assured swagger had immediately put her off.

Maya turned as she heard someone behind her, and was surprised to see John Koenig pulling on his coat. He caught her eye and gave her a brief, fleeting smile. She returned it, marveling at his ability to focus when she was sure his mind was probably racing. He had been quiet and determined since his arrival, constantly turning possibilities over in his mind.

"Are you going out again?" she asked.

He nodded. "Alan says they're almost finished fueling."

"I'll come with you, if you like."

But John shook his head. "You've been going all day. Why don't you stay here and get some rest? Alan and I are going to fly up through the mountains and see if we can spot anything. Maybe they've made camp."

Maya nodded. "They'll have to have, won't they? They can't keep going all night."

"No." John reached for his gloves, his lined with determination. "They have to stop sometime. And I don't know how long the cell will last in that buggy. They could end up stranded in the mountains with no way of contacting us or getting back."

Maya heard the catch in his voice, but chose not to acknowledge it. She ducked her head, clearing her throat. "I'll come with you," she repeated, softly. "I don't think I can wait here and not do anything."

This time John nodded, one corner of his mouth lifting in a smile. "Thanks, Maya. Let Tony know, and we'll meet you at the Eagle."

* * *

Helena opened her eyes to darkness and intense cold. The fire had gone out. She lifted her head to see Melville and Stuart, huddled together a few feet away. Joe was standing just past them, looking back at the group.

_Go_, Helena told him, silently. _Keep going._ _Don't worry about me._ She drew the blanket more tightly around herself and tried to wiggle her toes in her boots. She knew her feet were frozen now, that she was going to lose at least two toes – assuming she made it back home at all, and didn't die out here in the middle of nowhere.

She felt surprise wash over her as Joe turned back toward them, and she realized that he had started to build up the fire again. She leaned forward to blow softly on the embers, the way her father had taught her on childhood camping trips, and watched as the dry wood caught and flames licked toward the sky.

Silently, she urged Joe to leave again. Stuart and Melville would never find him in the woods, if he left now he'd have a good lead. But Joe sat down beside her, leaning back against the rocks behind them, and refused.

The familiar hum of an Eagle overhead made her jump, and Helena stood, stumbling out from under their shelter on legs that barely worked to stand in the open air. Her movement jolted Melville to attention, and before she could wave or shout, he grabbed her arm and dragged her out of sight.

"They'll find us eventually, Adam," she told him, suddenly angry. "Or they'll find our bodies after we've frozen to death."

He gave her a vicious shove, and she stumbled against the rock behind her.

"That's it," he said. "Let's get going." He pointed his gun at Joe. "You're telling us which way. I don't care how you do it, but you're going to tell us. Understand?"

Joe didn't move for what felt like forever. And then, slowly, he nodded.

"Good. So which way?"

Helena closed her eyes, silently begging Joe to lie. She opened them to see him pointing the way they were headed. He stabbed the air with his finger, twice, until Melville nodded and lowered his gun a little.

"All right." Melville kicked dirt and snow onto the flickering fire. "Let's go."

* * *

"There's nothing out here," John muttered in frustration after Alan had made a third pass over the mountains. "You'd think we'd pick up _something_ on our sensors."

"We have," Maya said, "but a lot of times our sensors pick up animals. We're better off looking for their vehicle."

"It's like looking for a needle in a haystack," John said, rubbing a hand over his face. He felt a knot of worry – all too familiar now – tighten in his stomach. "It must be thirty below out there again."

Alan nodded, grimly. His readings put the temperature at thirty-two degrees below zero. A slight wind from the north made the temperature drop to minus forty. He wondered if Helena had remembered her hat the night before. She was forever reminding him to wear one since they'd found this place – in the sun, in the cold – it had become a bit of a joke between them.

He let out a long, slow breath, guiding the Eagle over darkened peaks. He couldn't imagine them moving in temperatures like this, but he couldn't imagine them staying still, either.

"They'd have to build a fire, wouldn't they?" he asked. "They don't have a tent, or any other way to keep warm."

John nodded, grimly.

"Why didn't they take an Eagle?" Maya burst out in frustration.

"None of them are pilots," John answered, simply. "Harry Stuart's a botanist. Adam's a security officer. Helena would rather die than—" He stopped himself as the words left his mouth, and he sat back in the chair.

Maya and Alan exchanged glances, worried.

John shook his head, staring out the window of the Eagle. "Dammit," he muttered, balling his hand into a fist. He felt guilt gnaw at him, and then a surge of anger. All he'd wanted, from the moment they'd found this place, was to have a home with Helena. Over the years they had come close, but this time was supposed to be, as Tony had put it once, 'the real deal'. And he certainly wasn't going to let Adam Melville take it away from him.

* * *

"Which way now?" Melville asked, turning around in his seat to stare at his two passengers.

They'd driven through the night, moving higher into the mountains as the sun rose. Helena sat huddled in a thermal blanket, silently sending out prayers that an Eagle would fly overhead again soon.

Joe pointed in the same direction they'd been going, and Melville gave him a long, cold stare before turning back to face the front.

"You'd better not be lying to me," he muttered.

Joe turned his head to look at Helena. She knew he didn't understand what Melville had said, but that he could pick up the gist in the same way he had with her. She wondered how he kept from communicating with other people – how it was that she could hear what he was telling her, but no one else could.

The buggy sputtered a little as they started up a steep incline. Harry Stuart hunched over the controls, swearing softly as he tried to get his hands to co-operate. Helena knew his fingers were frozen – she had seen him blowing on stiff, white flesh when they'd stopped to camp.

Harry let out a shout as the buggy tipped sharply to one side, and he grabbed the controls, trying to keep them on course.

"Dammit, Harry," Melville growled, "be careful."

"You try it, Adam. It's not like we're on a paved road, here."

No sooner had Harry spoken than the back wheels of the buggy started to slide. Helena gripped the seat as they left flat ground and spun out of control, watching as Harry vainly attempted to steer the vehicle. The buggy spun around on the snow, and Helena was soon staring past Harry Stuart's head, down a deep, heavily treed incline.

Later, she'd remember only that everything happened very quickly. She saw Stuart fly forward, blood splattered the windshield as his head made impact with the glass. The vehicle glanced off a tree stump and bounced over on its side – Helena felt her cheek make impact with the metal pillar beside her, and she held on to her seat as Joe fell against her.

It took her a moment to collect her wits once the vehicle came to rest. Her heart was racing. She felt Joe, heavy across her legs, and a sharp pain in her shoulder led her to believe it was probably broken. She was finding it very, very hard to breathe. Harry was eerily quiet. She didn't know where Adam was.

Joe moved, slowly at first, lifting himself off her legs. She turned her head to meet his eyes, and realized she couldn't help herself up – she could not get out of the seat. So she waited, gritting her teeth against the pain, as he carefully stood and tried to lift her. She tried to tell him how to do it – to be careful of her spine and to watch her shoulder – but everything was muddled and before she knew it she was waking up in the snow, Joe hovering over her.

"It's all right," she said out loud, surprised that her voice sounded so calm. "You should keep going. You'll die out here in the cold."

He shook his head.

"I mean it," Helena gasped, as darkness crept along the edges of her vision. "Go."

* * *

John drew his hand back from Harry Stuart's body, consumed with a sinking feeling. He straightened, looking at the twisted wreckage of the stolen vehicle and the surrounding snow, dotted with blood. Helena was nowhere to be found, and the tracks leading away from the crash site had proven to be confusing. There were several sets of footprints, leading off in two directions.

"Do you think they walked away from the wreck?" he asked, watching as Alan peered into the back of the buggy.

"Hard to say. They were probably both injured, if they did. I can see Helena wanting to stay on the move in temperatures like this, but from the way things look here they must have had help." Alan cast a glance around the site, shaking his head. He wasn't going to mention the strands of blond hair he'd just noticed, caught in the bloodied, broken glass of the back window.

"What do you want to do, John?" Tony asked, pulling on his gloves. His toes were already getting cold. He couldn't imagine trudging through the snow with a broken arm or a concussion, let alone other, more serious injuries. His eyes fell on Adam Melville, sprawled in the snow beside the wreckage, and his stomach gave a queasy lurch.

John turned in a circle, taking in their options. "I think we should keep going the way they were," he said, finally. "Melville must have known something. Maybe we can find the rest of them."

"I'll do another scan once we're up in the air," Maya said. "Maybe we'll turn up something we haven't before. Especially if they're on the move."

"Good idea," Alan said, trying to sound positive. He started toward the Eagle, then hesitated. "What should we do with the bodies?"

"Let the animals have them," John said, his voice harsh. "They don't deserve anything more."


	5. Chapter Five

When Helena woke, she felt nothing but warmth and weariness. She wondered for a moment where she was, then what they had given her for the pain, because she felt none of the agony she'd felt after the crash.

A hand on her arm made her turn her head, and she realized all too quickly where she was – the place she had been trying to avoid coming to all along. Joe's home. She briefly wondered where he was, if he had been hurt, too, but the person beside her touched her arm again.

"You need to rest," said what Helena thought of as a feminine voice.

Helena frowned. "You can speak?"

"Some of us can. We've been watching you since you entered our star system, months ago." The woman reached for a cup of water beside the bed. "My…cousin…the one you call Joe…has not yet mastered your language. He prefers our way."

"Is he all right?"

"He will be fine. He's resting, too." The woman held the cup of water out to Helena, urging her to drink, and Helena lifted her head to sip from it.

"What did you give me for the pain?" she asked, as she settled back into the pillows. "My shoulder doesn't hurt at all."

The woman laughed, softly. "My cousin said you'd be curious." She stood, setting the cup back on the table beside the bed. "When you've rested, I'll show you."

Helena nodded. "Do you have a name?" she asked, as drowsiness made her eyelids heavy.

"Novi. Go to sleep."

Too exhausted to do anything else, Helena closed her eyes and did as she was told.

* * *

Darkness had fallen again when Alan set the Eagle down on the landing pad near the tiny Alphan settlement. John had sat in stony silence for much of that day, as the group flew over the mountains again and again, searching for clues.

Though Alan didn't like to admit it, he was starting to doubt that they would ever find Helena alive. He knew, when he caught Tony or Maya's eye, that they thought the same thing. But then he'd give himself a shake, and remind himself that they'd faced situations like this before.

He felt fatigue tugging at his limbs, but ignored it, choosing instead to concentrate on powering down. They had been flying for two days straight, spelling each other off for catnaps. Alan could see fatigue etched in John's features, and suspected he looked just as weary.

Now, as he stood, he noticed that John had not moved from the co-pilot's seat. He reached out to clap him on the back, as if to bring him back to earth. "Come on, mate, let's get a bite to eat and decide what to do next."

John nodded, a muscle twitching in his jaw. "You go on ahead, Alan. I want to take another look at those satellite surveys of the mountains."

Alan raised an eyebrow. "You sure?"

John stood. "I'm sure. We might have missed something today."

Alan frowned. "Like what? We flew the same pattern four times."

John's dark brows drew together. "Something, all right? She has to be somewhere. She can't have disappeared off the face of the planet."

"No," Alan agreed grimly. He didn't like to think about where Helena could be, or what condition she could be in. They'd all agreed that the footprints at the crash site were not human, and that there had been more than one. Tony had wanted to follow the trail, but after half a mile the footprints had disappeared. None of them matched the Alpha-issue boots Helena had been wearing – or even her foot size – and they'd all agreed that if she had been with them, she had not been walking.

Alan shoved his hands deep in his pockets as Maya reached to open the hatch of the Eagle, and he hunched his shoulders against the cold. "I'll take a look at those surveys with you, John," he said, as they stepped out into the snow. "You never know. We might turn up something."

* * *

Helena opened her eyes what felt like hours later to find herself alone in the room. She sat up, slowly, and took in her surroundings.

There were no windows in the room, so she had no sense of whether it was day or night, but the light from a fire bathed the space in a warm glow. The room was small and simply furnished, but comfortable. There was a chair by the fire.

Helena slipped out of bed, surprised to find her body only ached slightly. She looked down at her feet – her toes were a healthy pink and very much intact, even if they were a little tender. Her head throbbed, and she felt traces of nausea in the back of her throat, but she could stand and walk and breathe without trouble. Whatever these people had done had healed her.

Only when she sat down by the fire did she realize her clothing was different. She was wearing a tunic and trousers, just like Joe's. The fabric was soft, light, and wonderfully warm. She looked around the room, wondering where her own clothing had gone, and found it folded in a neat pile on a small table near the door. Helena grimaced when she touched it – her sweater was stiff with blood, as was her coat. Her pants weren't in much better shape.

Helena sat back down with the clothing in her lap. Her first instinct had been to throw it into the fire, but she studied it for a moment, her heart aching at the sight of it. She hadn't brought many possessions with her from Earth – the bundle in her lap was one more thing she'd have to sacrifice on their journey. It wouldn't have lasted much longer anyway, she reasoned. The trousers were wearing thin – everyone's were. The sweater, a gruesome salvation from the storage area that held the possessions of Alphans who had not survived, had been patched at the elbows more times than she cared to think about.

She started as the door opened behind her, and the woman who had been with her before – Novi – glided into the room.

"You're awake," she said. "How are you feeling?"

"Fine," Helena said, surprised. "A slight headache, but…wonderful, all things considered."

Novi smiled slightly, glancing at the bundle in Helena's lap. "I was going to burn those," she said, "but I thought, in the end, that you should decide if they were salvageable."

Helena shook her head, and the woman took the bundle from her, bending to deposit the clothing in the fire. Helena sat, watching the Alpha insignia on the shoulder of her coat as it curled and melted in the heat. She wondered if John had come down from Alpha to find her, and she missed him with an intensity that took her breath away.

"Your people are looking for you," Novi said. "They flew overhead earlier today."

"They didn't see your village?"

Novi shook her head. "It's well hidden. We have not been invaded for centuries, but our habits remain the same."

"With good reason, I suppose," Helena admitted, thinking of Adam Melville.

"Yes. With good reason." Novi paused. "My cousin says your people are friendly."

"They are. The men who caused the accident…they acted alone." She hesitated. "If we'd known you were here, we would have asked your permission to stay. We've had to abandon our home – it can't sustain us any longer – but we don't mean any harm by being here."

Novi nodded. "This man who is looking for you – is he your leader?"

"John? Yes, he's been our leader since we lost our home."

"He is your…mate?"

Helena laughed, softly. "Yes, I guess you could say that. My mate. We've been together for a few years." She paused, her expression sober. "I need to go back to them."

Novi nodded. "You will. We'll find a way to tell them where you are. We'll send them a message in the morning."

Helena nodded. "Thank you."

Novi turned toward the door. "Are you still curious about our healing practices?"

Helena felt her eyebrows shoot up in surprise. "Yes. Will you show me?" She watched as her companion held out a hand, and she stood on shaking legs to take it.

* * *

The message came through early the next morning. Sandra Benes saw it first, as she sat at her workstation, nursing a cup of coffee.

"We're getting a signal," she called out, and Tony crossed the room in two strides to peer over her shoulder. "It's in English."

"They speak English?" Tony asked, dubious.

Sandra lifted one slender shoulder in a shrug. "I'm not surprised by anything anymore," she said, leaning forward to read. "It says Helena is fine. They will send co-ordinates for us – telling us where to meet her."

"Meet her?"

"That's what it says. Look." She pointed at the screen, and Tony bent over, peering at it.

"All right then. Can you send a message back?"

Sandra frowned. "I'm not sure. I can try. What do you want me to say?"

Tony straightened, thinking. "Acknowledge their message, and let them know we're friendly. Then contact John and let him know Helena's okay."

* * *

John and Alan had just lifted off when Sandra's message came through. John felt his body sag with relief; he sank back in the seat and collected himself for a moment before acknowledging the information.

"Have they sent the co-ordinates yet?" he asked.

"We're just receiving them now," Sandra said. John saw her frown slightly. "They are on the other side of the mountains, northeast of here. I'm sending them through now."

Alan cast a glance at John. "That's a lot further than they'd have gotten on their own."

John nodded. "I know. And it's a lot further from us than we looked." He drew in a deep breath, trying to keep his mind from racing.

"I'm glad she's all right," Maya said, reaching out to touch his shoulder, and John turned to smile at her.

"Right," Alan said, "we'll be there in an hour or so. I'm setting the course now."

* * *

Helena slipped her arms into the long black coat, marveling at the lightness and warmth of the fabric. She paused a moment, unsure of how to fasten it, until her new friend reached out to show her. She looked up, smiling her thanks.

She had spent much of the night before and that morning listening to Novi tell her about their way of healing. It had a lot to do with their telekinetic abilities, and although Novi had insisted Helena could learn, Helena felt doubtful.

"I don't have the same abilities you have," she insisted, and Novi had laughed.

"Of course you do. How do you think my cousin communicated with you? They are simply untested among your people."

Helena frowned, thinking of lambda waves and other psychic phenomenon. She had always recognized the possibility it existed, but she had never considered it might exist within herself.

At the same time, she felt reluctant to test it – almost afraid that learning to heal their way would negate everything she had dedicated her life to. Her entire world had once been determined by empirical evidence – it drove the way she arrived at a diagnosis, it decided the type of treatment she prescribed, it was the way she measured her successes.

Novi sensed her fear, but had a difficult time understanding it. "What does it matter, when the patient is well and healthy?" she asked.

"I don't suppose it does," Helena admitted. "I just haven't considered it before."

"But if you consider why you are a doctor, our way makes sense, does it not?"

Helena nodded. "I became a doctor to help people. So yes. It makes sense."

Novi nodded once, as if to rest her case. "If you stay," she said, "I'll teach you."

"I can't stay," Helena said. "I would love to learn, but I can't stay."

Now, as she fastened her coat, Novi asked her again. And Helena's answer was the same – as much as she wanted to learn, she could not leave her new home, or John.

"He wouldn't understand?"

Helena sighed. "He would. But it's more than that. There are other people there who need me, too. We don't have enough doctors for everyone as it is, and there will be children to look after, and…" She stopped, feeling responsibility heavy on her chest, and felt Novi reach out to touch her arm.

"It will get easier," Novi said, and Helena nodded, pulling on her gloves.

"I know," Helena said. She looked up to see someone standing behind Novi, and smiled as she recognized Joe. She had not seen him since she'd woken up in his home. He stepped toward her, and Helena bit down on her lip as he clasped her hand. "Thank you," she told him, "for saving my life."

Joe's answer, though non-verbal, was clear and sweet. _I would do the same for any friend, _he said_. You did the same for me_.

* * *

Alan set the Eagle down carefully in a clearing, frowning a little as he took in the deserted area. "Do you think this is right? There's no one here."

John shrugged. "Who knows? We're a little early, and we have no idea how they'll be traveling." He paused. "It matches the co-ordinates they sent."

Alan nodded. "I hope they're on the up and up, is all," he muttered.

"I'm sure they are," Maya said firmly, from her spot behind John. She unclipped her harness and stood, stretching slightly. "Perhaps Sandra can send them another message."

"Perhaps," John said, following Maya's lead and moving out of the co-pilot's seat. He glanced at his watch. "Let's wait outside."

The three stood in the frosty air, their eyes watering from the sunlight reflecting off the snow. John paced a little, pretending he was trying to keep warm, but Alan and Maya knew better. They felt like pacing, too.

"It's beautiful up here," Maya said after a while. "Look at the trees."

John nodded, absently. "They look like the forests on Earth." He glanced up at the sky, looking for an aircraft of some sort. "I wonder how they're getting here."

"Someone's coming out of the trees, John," Alan said, pointing north. John turned, surprised, as a figure, dressed in black, appeared at the edge of the clearing.

"One of their people?" Maya asked, squinting into the sun.

John shrugged. "Maybe they've come to tell us where Helena is." He paused, unsure of whether to be prepared for an aggressive encounter or a friendly one. And then the figure raised a hand to wave, and pushed its hood back. John saw a gleam of golden hair, and he pressed his binoculars to his eyes. "It's _Helena_," he shouted, throwing the binoculars at Alan. His long legs took him away from the group at a run.

She was trudging steadily toward him, exhausted from the hour-long trek uphill. But she felt her heart give a little flutter as she watched him close the distance between them, and she gasped as he ran into her full-tilt, lifting her off the ground in a bone-crushing hug.

"Jesus," he said, when he put her down, "look at you. Are you all right?" He was running his hands over her face, her arms and shoulders, feeling for injuries.

Helena smiled at him. "I'm fine."

He cupped her face in his hands, and she saw tears in his eyes. "Are you sure?"

"I'm sure. I'm very glad to see you, though." Her throat closed over, suddenly, and she cleared it, blinking furiously. "I think I'm all done with adventure."

John laughed. "Me too," he said, bending to press a firm kiss on her mouth, his arms tight around her again.

"We do have lovely new neighbors, though," she said, linking arms with him as they turned to walk back toward the Eagle.

"Do we?" He glanced at her coat, running his gloved fingers over the soft fabric.

Helena nodded, squeezing his arm. They were silent the rest of the walk back. She could see Alan and Maya standing by the Eagle, grinning at her, and she felt a rush of happiness.

"Well," Alan said, when they finally reached the Eagle, "that was a bloody long way to go for a new coat, Helena."

* * *

"Hey."

John's voice, coming through the darkness, made Helena turn from the window. She drew her robe more tightly around her and turned to smile at him. "Hey. I thought you were asleep."

"I was." He rubbed his eyes, sitting up in bed. "Are you all right?"

She nodded. "Just thinking." Helena glanced out the window again, at the snowy hills glowing with moonlight.

"What about?"

Helena bit her lip, turning back to face him. "What made Adam Melville so afraid."

John sighed, leaning back on an elbow. "Ignorance, I suppose."

"I suppose." She felt a rush of despair, suddenly. "They could have left me out there to die, you know. They had no way of knowing that I was any different than those two."

"But they did know. You did the same for one of them." She looked unconvinced, and he found himself sitting up in bed, holding out a hand to her. "Helena. You know I'm right."

She cleared her throat. "I guess so." She hesitated. "I guess I feel as if I should have handled it better. I should have made sure he was safe from the beginning."

"That's crazy. You did everything you could to save him. The fact that Adam Melville was an ignorant maniac isn't your fault."

Helena nodded, turning back toward him and coming to sit on the edge of the bed, one foot tucked under her. "Can I show you something?" she said, her voice a whisper.

John frowned. "Of course."

"Give me your hands."

John did, surprised, watching as she settled on the bed beside him. Helena drew in a deep breath, concentrating, and felt John give a sudden jump.

"How did you do that?" he asked, his eyes wide.

"They showed me. Novi showed me."

"In one day?"

Helena shook her head. "Not really. She said it was easier for me to learn after communicating that way for so long."

"But you couldn't always do it." He looked perplexed, and then intensely curious. He reached for her hands again, lacing his fingers with hers.

Helena shook her head. "I wasn't even sure I could do it with you." She drew in a deep breath. "She asked me to stay. She wanted to show me how to become a healer."

John raised an eyebrow. "You are a healer."

"This is different. It's not…medicine…in the sense we're used to. They can do things we can't even imagine." She hesitated. "I should have been dead after that crash, John. I know my shoulder was broken. I know I had internal injuries. A concussion." She shifted on the bed, stretching her legs out in front of her. "Look at my feet. They were frozen. I should have lost some toes."

John frowned, watching as she wiggled her toes, as if to illustrate her point.

"When I woke up again, everything was fine. I was fine. There was no pain. I was as good as new." She reached for his hand again, squeezing his fingers. "Can you imagine if we'd had that power on Alpha?"

He nodded. "We wouldn't have lost anyone." He was quiet for a moment, studying their joined hands. "Do you want to go back to them?"

Helena followed his gaze, feeling her chest constrict. "No."

"Are you sure?"

She nodded, lifting her head to meet his eyes. "It's an amazing thing. I'm not going to lie and say I'm not curious about it. I am. But…" She bit her lip. "This is our chance to be together. To have a home together. And that's all I want right now."

He smiled at her, softly, reaching to cup her cheek. "That's all I want, too." He tilted his head to kiss her, and Helena let out a little laugh as they slid backward onto the bed. "You know I have to go back up to Alpha in a day or two."

"I know." She smiled at him, her eyes gleaming. "But I'll be here when you get back."

"Promise?" he asked, laughing.

"I promise. Maybe when we're settled we can learn more about them."

"I hope so." He smoothed her hair. "I don't want us to make the same mistakes here that we've made on Earth."

"No, I know. I don't think any of us do." Helena sighed. "I like to think we won't. I like to think that Adam Melville was an aberration."

"So do I. I like to think we've learned something from all the things we've seen." John was quiet for a moment, and Helena felt his arm slide around her waist, drawing her against him. "I hope we're right."


End file.
